


Hold On to the Feeling and Don't Let It Go

by tigriswolf



Series: randomass prompts [69]
Category: One Direction (Band), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Zombie Apocalypse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7886920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine day during the zombie apocalypse. </p><p>Part 2: a slightly exciting day during the zombie apocalypse.</p><p>Interlude: three New Year Eves</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Routine Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LibbyWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWrites/gifts).



> Title: Hold On to the Feeling and Don't Let It Go
> 
> Disclaimer: title from “Up All Night”; most of the characters mentioned are not mine because they are in fact real people who belong to themselves 
> 
> Warnings: references to violence/death, minor original character death
> 
> Rating: PG13
> 
> Note: thanks to **E** for the beta/britpicking!

He still wakes up, sometimes, expecting to hear Fizzy and Lottie shouting at each other. To hear Mum singing as she helps Daisy and Phoebe get ready. He never lived at home when the younger twins did, so he doesn’t know how the routine changed. 

Most mornings, he wakes up to hear, “Hey, Lou.” He and Harry have never really talked about life from before, so he doesn’t know what Harry expects, waking up. But he rolls over and he smiles as best he can (some mornings, a smile is easier than other mornings) and he says, “Hey, Harold.” 

He knows there are worse people to spend the end of the world with. He just wishes both their families could be here, too. 

.

The first thing Louis does is check on the dogs; if they’re all fine and calm, then he visits the spot he and Harry have designated as the toilet. Once he’s finished, he plays with the dogs for a bit while Harry decides what to do about breakfast. As Harry prepares said breakfast, Louis climbs onto the roof to check the countryside. Even though the dogs are calm (which means no dead are nearby), Louis always checks periodically throughout the day. 

There is no such thing as paranoia, anymore. 

.

“I’m going to have to make a supply run,” Harry says as they eat boiled eggs. 

“You’re staying here,” Louis replies. “Your ankle isn’t strong enough yet. I’ll take [Danny](http://www.acedostucker.com/Contact_Us_files/shapeimage_2.png). What do we need?” 

There’s a small town within about an hour’s walk, which they periodically return to, for supplies at the chemist’s, or the small grocery store, or the houses. Louis wanted to clear it out as soon as they were settled, but Harry said they had to leave things for other survivors. 

“The med kit’s falling low,” Harry grumbles, glaring down at his ankle. 

“So, the chemist’s, then,” Louis says. “I’ll clean it out this time.” 

“Take Danny and [Kenickie](http://dogbreedswallpapers.com/wallpaper/2015/10/champion-hunting-labrador-retrievers-4-background-wallpaper.jpg),” Harry tells him. He hesitates, clearly wanting to repeat the same argument that worked before, but Louis just raises an eyebrow, glancing from Harry’s ankle back to meet his gaze. Harry looks down at his plate. 

“I’ll go after breakfast,” Louis says. 

.

Before he leaves, Louis patrols again, Danny and Kenickie exploring around him. They’re the only survivors of a litter Louis found about a year before he rescued Harry; they’re a pair of rambunctious Labrador retrievers, and picking them up is one of the best decisions he’s made in this new world. 

Because they don’t talk about before, Harry doesn’t know about the first group Louis was with, who he left Manchester with, trying to get home to his family. He doesn’t know how it ended, or why Louis doesn’t trust people anymore. 

In his previous life, planning to become a drama instructor, partying with his friends, the only worry about whether his hangover would affect his studies—Louis barely remembers being that boy.

When he finally got to Doncaster, the house was picked clean. Liam insisted they move on because there were herds of dead everywhere, and Louis almost stayed. If Zayn hadn’t dragged him from the house—

But he has to believe Mum and the girls and Ernie are safe. It’s the only way to survive. 

“Boys!” he calls, whistling the command to heel. [Susie](http://www.yourpurebredpuppy.com/dogbreeds/photos-CD/cavalierkingcharlesspanielsf6.jpg) and [Marigold](http://cdn3-www.dogtime.com/assets/uploads/2009/05/yorkshire-terrier-dog-names.jpg), two small strays they found in town when they first arrived, come, too, but Louis holds up his hand. “Stay,” he orders, and then to [Titan](https://blog-photos.dogvacay.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/irish_wolfhound_0013.jpg), the wolfhound that was hiding on the property, “Guard.” 

There is one spot where a human can enter or exit the perimeter. “Danny,” he says. “Scout.” 

In his previous life, Louis had liked dogs well enough. In this life, he puts in the time and effort to make sure everyone that stays with him can survive, and that includes training the dogs for hours and hours. 

He pushes the rock up beside the stone wall and Danny jumps up, immediately stopping on the wall and sniffing. When he doesn’t react to anything, Louis follows, and then Kenickie. There is one way back up, so they walk along the wall until they reach that stump, and Louis murmurs, “Scout,” again. 

Danny jumps down, and when it’s all clear, Louis and Kenickie follow. He hides the stump with some brush, whistles the tune that means _guard_ , and heads in the direction of town. 

.

Sometimes, Louis daydreams about all the ways he could’ve met Harry. Since they were both in Manchester for school, there’s the obvious meeting up in a club somewhere. Harry was training to become a midwife, so it could’ve been in hospital, possibly. They could’ve met back in sixth form, since their schools had mostly the same trips. They were at the same concert once, they discover, when they were still just kids, 15 and 17. Five years before the world ended. 

The funniest way is that they both almost tried out for X-Factor the same year. They both made it through the producer auditions, and then Harry’s dad got into a car accident the day before while Louis’ littlest sisters (at the time) came down with a cough, so he stayed to help. 

“Maybe it’s destiny, Lou,” Harry whispered one night while they were curled into each other behind fortified doors and windows, and a 7-foot stone wall. Louis’ rifle was within reach and Harry had a crowbar on the floor beside him. “Maybe we were always going to meet.” 

“Maybe,” Louis agreed, kissing the top of his head. 

.

Louis knows there’s something out there because Kenickie growls, a low sound because Louis’ taught them to be quiet. He drops back as Kenickie prowls forward, ruff up and teeth bared, grabbing for his machete and trying to track where whatever it is will be coming from. 

Danny lunges from the trees to fall in beside his brother and the dead man lumbers behind him, hands grasping, teeth clacking together. 

The dogs are snarling now and Louis doesn’t know if more are coming. He moves in, whistling for Danny to circle behind it, and while it’s distracted by both dogs harrying it, Louis darts in to stab it through the eye. 

“Good boys,” he says once it’s down. He gives them both pats and because they’re calming down, he knows it’s safe to press on. 

.

In hindsight, it’s obvious that Louis should’ve gotten the fuck out of Manchester when the first reports started trickling in. His best mate Niall had scrolled through the newsfeed and said, “Fuckin’ hell,” before booking the first flight he could home. 

Louis has no idea if Niall ever made it, or what was waiting for him when he did. But he stayed in his flat, stocked up on essentials, and argued with Mum until the phones stopped working. He’d wanted to go home, to help with the kids, to be there—but Mum said it had all been blown out of proportion, that whatever it was would blow over soon enough. 

It’s been three years. Louis slips into the bare bones of a once thriving village and carefully works his way to the chemist’s, one dog scouting ahead and the other beside him. He’s stopped counting how many dead he’s put down and he’s never told Harry how many living he killed. 

That idiot boy he was once wouldn’t recognize him now. 

.

Danny and Kenickie were barely full grown when Louis stumbled across the settlement. It was one of those cults that had begun springing up as survivors tried to cope. He made sure to keep the dogs close as he skirted the edges and he would’ve passed on without being caught if he hadn’t seen the trial. 

“Danny, scout,” he murmured, pointing to the area behind them. He kept Kenickie with him as he crept closer. 

He learned the details from Harry later: Harry had stolen a few bandages and a salve for one of the women, who cut herself while cooking. He’d gotten caught and refused to tell why he’d stolen the supplies. For that, the leaders (a triumvirate, apparently, to invoke all those religious tendencies) tried him. He was found guilty, of course. 

It honestly amazes Louis that Harry still has any faith in what’s left of humanity. 

It also frightens him, whenever he sees Harry dancing in place while singing, or how he lights up when Susie brings him something to throw, that he came within a breath of turning away and leaving Harry to whatever fate those wankers would’ve come up with. 

But Harry was put into a shed, locked from the outside, and left to wait for his sentencing the next morning. 

As the people trickled back to their routines, Louis skulked around. The sun was setting so Louis felt more secure in sending Kenickie to scout, too, his darker fur blending in. 

“Hey, you,” he hissed as he lightly tapped on the shed door. “What skills do you have?” 

Danny bumped against him, tail wagging, and Kenickie slunk back in. 

“Who are you?” a deep, sad voice answered. It didn’t at all match the slight man he’d seen. 

“The guy who can pick this lock and is leaving in five minutes,” Louis said. 

It was Harry’s medical skills that had Louis setting him free; it was Harry’s charm and bad jokes that had Louis allowing him to stick around long enough to fall in love with. 

.

Kenickie starts growling as Louis is about to round the corner, so he quickly pulls back, reaching for the machete. There’s a yelp and the sound of Danny snarling, and Kenickie barrels out, so Louis follows. 

He takes it all in in spurts: a man trying to rope his dog, a woman in the distance with a shotgun, and Danny limping as he dodges. 

The man is distracted and the woman obviously unfamiliar with the weapon.

Louis knows what Harry would do, and that’s why Harry is never the one who goes out alone. 

“Kenickie,” Louis whispers, eyes on the woman. “Ambush.” 

Kenickie circles behind the man and lunges up to knock him off balance, which gives Louis the time needed to slit his throat. The woman begins bringing the gun up, trying to aim it or cock it or load it—she obviously has no idea, which was stupid on the part of whoever gave her the gun. “Kenickie,” he says again, “bring her down.” 

The woman screams and swings the gun like it’s a crowbar, but Louis trusts his dog so he turns to Danny. “I think you just pulled somethin’,” he says, running his fingers along the injured leg. “We’ll have Harry take a look.” He stands and goes to the body, stabbing it through the eye so it stays down. 

The woman is crying on the ground, Kenickie at her shoulder, teeth bared. “Good boy,” Louis says. He quickly checks the dead man’s clothes for anything useful and grabs the bag he’d dropped. “You with a group?” he asks the woman. 

She spits at him. She looks a bit like Mum, when Mum gets tired, when Mum’s been crying for hours because Dad’s going to leave and there’s absolutely nothing to be done. 

Louis sighs. “You coulda passed through, the pair of ya,” he says. Danny limps up beside him, looking almost red in the bright sunlight. “What were ya gonna do, eat ‘im?” he asks, rubbing Danny’s ears. 

“We’re starvin’,” the woman bites out, hands clenched into fists. “Ain’t nothin’ in this place.” 

Louis sighs again. “Danny, stay,” he orders, shifting his grip on the machete. 

.

He has Danny rest while he fills up both his bag and the dead’s with everything left in the chemist’s. If Danny weren’t injured, he’d also scout out the village for any new dead roaming around, but instead he sends Kenickie ahead to scout while he and Danny take their time heading back home. 

Danny can’t be hurt too badly because he’s able to get back into the perimeter. Marigold greets him excitedly and Harry’s in the distance in the vegetable garden. Kenickie hurries toward the pond but when Danny tries to follow, Louis calls out, “Danny, heel,” because he wants to make sure it’s nothing more than a slight strain. 

.

“Put down three dead,” he reports while Harry kneels beside Danny to examine his leg. “Got everything the chemist had left, too.” 

“Looks like just a mild strain,” Harry says, patting Danny’s flank. He stands back up to take the bags from Louis. “I’ll go organize the medicine cabinet.” 

“Then more training with guns,” Louis says. Harry nods.

.

Louis only got out of Manchester because of Liam. Liam, who spotted him running from some dead who he’d known in life, panicked and crying, who involved himself when it would’ve been safer to keep going. 

Liam, who’d been on leave from the army in order to visit his family, who was passing through Manchester with his group of a dozen people, who saved Louis and brought him back to camp. 

Liam, who was patient and kind and taught Louis to use a gun, a knife, a bit of hand to hand. 

Liam, who agreed that they could go to Doncaster next. 

It was Zayn, Liam’s boyfriend who (back when planes worked) backpacked around the world, that warned him of what might be in Doncaster. Zayn, who taught him how to tell edible plants from poisonous ones, how to treat water, a few other tricks that ended up saving his life later. 

He spent about a year with their group, and he wishes quite often that he could send word to them he’s found a safe, defensible place. He has no idea if they’re still alive but like his family, has to believe they are. 

.

They eat a quick lunch and then Louis orders Danny, Kenickie, and Titan to guard before they head down into the tunnels. The yappers, they let inside. Susie and Marigold haven’t learned how to be quiet, yet, and Louis honestly isn’t sure he can train them the way he has the others. Whoever their previous humans were, they let the dogs run wild. 

It was Harry who found the place, who noticed the path. It was a veritable fortress, a house repurposed from some older structure (possibly the remnants of a castle, which had the drama major clinging to life inside Louis perhaps a tiny bit joyful), with a stone wall around the entire property except for a drive they proceeded to fortify with all the cars that were still drivable in the village and then disguised with brush. The house had already been made livable when they found it, with a vegetable garden and a pond, and even a chicken coop. 

Of course, the people who made it livable were still there, somewhat. Two were already dead, three would’ve woken up, and the sixth person nearly killed Harry in his panicked attempt to flee. Once they were all put down, Louis and the dogs scouted the rest of the structure, which is how he found the tunnels underneath. 

The tunnels underneath are where Louis teaches Harry to shoot. They don’t have an unlimited supply of ammo, so it’s slow going. All the farms within a three-day walk have been scavenged for any weapons and they’ve experimented with making bullets, though that only resulted in Louis burning the shit out of his arm. 

Harry had explained, as they fled the cult, that he wasn’t much in a fight because with the rest of all the medical personnel, he’d been kept as far from danger as possible. Before the cult—well, Harry hasn’t talked much about it. He wields a mean crowbar but he also trips over his own feet. 

“Assume the stance,” Louis orders with a leer once they’ve reached the targets. 

Harry snickers. “Rifle or handgun?” he asks, going over to the small stash. Along with the weapons, there’s also a go-bag of non-perishables and a compass. Louis and Danny had followed the tunnel to its end, and then disguised the opening. 

“Rifle,” Louis says. “We’ll make a sharpshooter of you yet, love.” 

.

After the lesson, Louis checks on the dogs again. Everything is still calm, so Louis settles into the library with the Complete Works of Shakespeare. Harry joins him just as he begins _The Tempest_ and pouts until Louis sighs heavily. “Fine,” he mutters. 

While Harry slowly brushes the mane he’s trying to grow, Louis performs every part of _The Tempest_ , with a few asides here and there that have Harry in stitches. 

“How long are you lettin’ this grow?” Louis asks, carefully setting the volume aside before slithering his way across Harry’s lap and making himself comfortable. 

“However long it’ll be when we finally have to move on,” Harry answers. He leans down so that his hair surrounds their faces like a curtain. He presses a sweet kiss to Louis’ forehead. “Break time’s over, Lou,” he says. “D’you wanna clean the weapons or the kitchen?” 

“I’ll take the kitchen,” Louis answers. 

.

Most of the afternoon is spent on the upkeep of the house. Harry insists on teaching Louis about the garden, and then Louis has to rescue one of the hens from Marigold, who likes to torment them. Harry scolds her but it’s not like Marigold is going to learn at this point. 

Titan starts growling first, going to the wall and getting up on his hind legs to try and see over it, maybe. Louis whistles once, short and sharp, and Titan pushes off the wall to hurry to him while Danny and Kenickie come tearing over from the other side of the yard. 

Louis has his favorite handgun on him, like always, the one Liam gave him. “Never aim at anything you don’t want to kill,” Liam had said. “Take care of your weapon and it’ll take care of you.” Little pieces of advices, small lessons he’d learned the hard way. Liam was so solemn, so serious—in another life, Louis likes to think he could’ve loosened Liam up, taught him to have fun. 

But in this life, Liam taught him how to live. 

There is no such thing as paranoia anymore, so Louis always checks out everything the dogs react to. Most of the time, it’s dead wandering by. If it’s just one or two, Louis puts them down. If it’s more than that, he finds somewhere to wait them out. 

This time, it’s a deer. Louis almost goes after it, but then he sees the dead in the distance, so he hops back off the wall. 

“Good boy,” he tells Titan, rubbing at his ears. Then, to Harry, “I’m going to take the dogs and check the perimeter.” 

“I’ll start putting things together for supper,” Harry says, “after I finish with the garden.” 

.

Harry knows about Liam and Zayn, about Karen and Geoff, about the kids Nicola and Ruth were taking care of. Harry told Louis all about how the cult started, how it wasn’t a cult in the beginning. Then there was some infighting, and then a herd of the dead passed through, and when the smoke cleared, there was a new leader and his two crazy brothers, and suddenly, the group became a cult. 

“I was gonna be a midwife,” Harry said one night, when they were holed up in a farmhouse, Danny curled beside Louis and Kenickie trying to beg some dinner from Harry even though they’d already had their part of the deer they’d run down with Louis. “Before, I mean. I’ve always loved babies, you know?” He’d laughed. “But the thought of any children having to deal with this…” 

They never discuss their families. Back in Doncaster, when Liam was dragging him away while Zayn picked off some of the dead, Louis had run through the list of where Mum might’ve taken them. Everything fell apart so quickly, and then it all went even more to hell. 

Louis wants to live, and he always has. But if he hadn’t found Danny and Kenickie when he did, and then if he hadn’t rescued Harry—

“Marigold!” Harry snaps. “You leave that poor hen alone!” 

He rounds the corner to see Harry glaring down at her, hands on his hips. 

“How’s your ankle?” he asks. 

“It’s better,” Harry says. “I’ll be able to go on the next run with you.” 

“What’s for dinner?” Louis scoops Marigold up and boops her gently on the nose. 

“Stew,” Harry answers. “Using up the last of the meat before it goes bad.” 

“Sounds lovely,” Louis says. “Now, I’ll distract Miss Trouble here while you finish that. Anything I can do to get dinner goin’?” 

“Nah, most of it’s prepped.” Harry turns to guide the hen back into the coop so Louis takes Marigold into the house. 

.

After dinner, they bathe, and Louis washes Harry’s curly locks. It’s a hazard, obviously, so the very few times he’s gone out, he puts it up or Louis braids it for him and _then_ it’s tucked up out of the way. 

The first time he offered to braid it, he’d seen the question cross Harry’s face, but Harry didn’t ask. 

Once Harry’s hair is rinsed out, Louis kisses the side of his neck. “Tonight?” he murmurs against Harry’s skin. 

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head slightly. 

Louis kisses him once more before pulling away. “Wanna wash my hair?” he asks instead of caressing Harry’s hip. 

“Yeah,” Harry says. 

.

Louis misses the internet. And mobile phones. And air conditioning. And music, and theater, and people he could trust to be decent. 

He really misses his mum, and Lottie and Fizzy and Phoebe and Daisy and Ernest and Doris and Dad and Dan, and Niall, Stan, even Oli and Calvin. He misses the life he had, and the boy he was when he had it. He misses his dormroom and his bedroom at his mum’s house. He misses his grandparents and his teachers. 

But that world is gone. That world is gone, and so is every plan he ever made for his future. 

“I really want to go home, sometimes,” Harry said one morning, voice trembling. “I dream about it.” He was holding the hunting knife Louis gave him, awkwardly. Definitely would lose his grip if he went to use it. “Does that make me weak?” he asked, looking at Louis. Trying for defiantly, but failing. 

“No,” Louis answered. “I dream about that too.” 

.

Two days after Louis rescued him, Harry insisted they watch the sunset. 

“Why?” Louis had demanded, flabbergasted. They’d needed to find somewhere safe for the night, from both the dead and that fucking _cult_ Louis had just saved him from, so stopping to watch their light disappear had been downright stupid. 

Of course, Louis was already annoyingly charmed by Harry’s optimism, laced as it was with a biting humor and the sharpest wit he’d found since Zayn. 

“To remind us,” Harry had said, but he hadn’t explained what the reminder was for. 

They can’t watch the sunset every night, of course. But since settling into this place, they climb onto the roof (if Harry’s actually capable that night) and watch the sun sink below the horizon, hands clasped. 

“Do you think anyone’s even looking for a cure anymore?” Louis asks, leaning back to watch as the sky darkens and the stars begin to pop out. “It can’t be everywhere, can it? We’re an island—maybe the continent is okay, and they’re slowly taking it all back from the dead.” 

“That makes sense,” Harry agrees. “In sealed off labs or something. They’re hard at work on a cure, and it’ll be any day, now.” 

“Any day,” Louis says, squeezing his hand slightly. 

.

Louis does one more patrol and then they seal up every window and door. All the dogs are brought in, too. Titan usually stays to himself on the ground floor, but Danny and Kenickie sleep in the hall outside the bedroom, while Marigold and Susie (because Harry spoils them exactly the way their previous humans did) actually sleep at the foot of the bed. 

He’s resolved that Harry will never learn just how comforting Louis finds it. 

Louis’ rifle is propped against the wall in reach and Harry has a crowbar on the floor beside him. They sleep fully dressed, shoes beside their weapons. There’s a go-bag in sight. 

“Maybe it’ll all be over tomorrow,” Harry whispers, face tucked into Louis’ neck. 

“Maybe,” Louis murmurs, glancing towards the window. The dogs are quiet. They’re safe at the moment, behind a 7-foot stone wall. It’s more than he usually hopes for, and they’ll hold this place as long as they can.


	2. A Slightly Exciting Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: death/violence, references to non-con, grief, PTSD
> 
> Note: I honestly hadn't expected to write more in this 'verse. Now there might be a third part, though I'm not sure yet.

“I had a sister,” Harry says softly one morning, about a year after they’ve made the house into a livable home. “Gemma.” They’re curled up on the sofa together, Harry with a Sudoku book they’d found in the den and Louis with a copy of the library’s _The Prisoner of Azkaban_. “She was visiting me when it all started.” 

_Had_.

Louis reaches out to pet Harry’s curls. He doesn’t look up from the Sudoku. “Mum and Robin were away on a business trip, to the States.” His voice is perfectly measured, as empty of emotion as he can manage. “Somewhere in Texas, I think. Mum said they’d get the first flight back they could.” He stops, hands trembling around the puzzle book. “Mum called when they landed in London.” His voice is trembling now. “ _London_ , Louis.” 

He breaks. Louis shoves his book to the side so that he can wrap around Harry, who clings so tightly it hurts. “We all agreed to go home,” he mumbles into Louis’ neck, barely understandable through the sobs. “Me and Gemma went in her car. We didn’t even make it out of Manchester.” 

Louis just holds him without making a sound. He digs his fingers into Harry’s back, so that Harry knows he’s there.

“We thought it was a mob, at the end of the street,” Harry says.

And, “They were screaming—I wanted to go help, but Gemma, she pulled me away.”

And, “I shouted at her, fuck, Louis, she was saving us, but I wanted to go help.”

And, “We didn’t know she’d been scratched until we were almost back to my flat.”

And, “Louis, I did everything, I tried my best,” curled up as small as he can, so tired he can barely sob anymore, body still shuddering.

And, “When she woke up, I ran.”

And, “London, Louis. _London_.” 

He finally falls asleep, though it’s barely midmorning, exhausted from sobbing. Louis rests his cheek on Harry’s head and cries as softly as he can.

…

Louis didn’t have a plan, when he rescued Harry. The first thing to do was put as much space between them and the cult as they could, so there wasn’t time for questions: he just shoved Harry ahead of him, ordering Kenickie to scout and Danny to guard, and he kept hushing Harry whenever he tried to talk.

Harry was quiet, that first day, gaze wary and sharp. He was gentle with the dogs and skittish with Louis, but when Louis finally let them rest, he asked, “Why?”

“Your medical skills,” Louis answered, clucking to the dogs so that they bounded to him. He quickly checked them for any injuries with Harry watching, head tilted inquisitively.

“Where’s your group?” Harry asked. 

“Don’t have one,” Louis had bitten out, but keeping his hands gentle on Danny. He’d then asked, “Don’t suppose you know where we are?” 

“Sheffield,” Harry said. 

Louis had raised his eyebrows. He’d thought he’d gotten further than that, but he must’ve been going in circles. 

“Don’t suppose you know the date, either?” he asked. He’d spent the winter holed up with the dogs in a little village that had been thankfully empty, cuddling with them for heat, stealing every blanket he could find. He’d managed to avoid all but four dead and the two people who’d wandered through, bundled up in thick jackets he’d dearly wanted—but one of them looked to be about Fizzy’s age, so he let them go without making himself known.  
Once the weather warmed up, he’d gotten out because staying still terrified him.

“The fifth of May,” Harry said. “I think. Definitely early May.” 

Louis couldn’t remember the exact day he’d heard the first reports of the dead rising, but the phones stopped working in September, and he’d been saved by Liam sometime in October. 

“Well, at least it’ll definitely stay warm, then,” he muttered.

“I’m Harry,” Harry told him.

Louis had laughed, because it’d been almost a day since he’d picked the lock and neither of them had ever introduced themselves. He’d forgotten how to deal with humans he couldn’t just kill.

“Louis,” he said. He tapped each dog on the shoulder as he said, “Danny, Kenickie.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. “I’m not sure what they were going to do.”

Later, Louis will realize that was a lie. But he won’t ask.

Louis slipped his pack off his shoulder and grabbed his bag of jerky. He first fed the dogs, then offered Harry some, and Harry took it with a murmured, “Thanks.” Only then did Louis eat. 

After about an hour’s rest, with Louis and Danny on watch, Louis had said, “Alright, let’s keep moving.” Once Harry was on his feet, Louis asked a question he probably should have asked sooner: “Can you handle a gun?”

Harry had shaken his head. 

“Alright,” Louis said. “Stay close to me, then.” Ignoring his body shuddering, he ordered Kenickie, “Scout,” and they continued on.

…

Louis drowses on the sofa until Harry stirs. “Sorry,” he mutters, wiping at his face as he pulls away. 

“Want to teach me about the garden?” Louis asks, squeezing Harry’s hand. 

They’re mostly quiet ‘til lunchtime, with Harry murmuring the name of each kind of flower. Danny, Kenickie, and Titan play on the far side of the yard while Marigold stays close to Harry, and Susie naps in the sunlight.

Louis prepares a quick lunch and they eat in the garden. Louis rambles on about Harry Potter; Harry barely replies.

“Nick found me,” he says, when their plates are empty. “A couple days after—he found me and brought me back to this group, and we all stuck together, in someone’s house.” His smile is rueful. “We lasted maybe a week there. Nick and I were the only ones who made it out.” He slumps down onto Louis. Marigold stretches across his lap, whining, so Harry begins to stroke her ears. “I don’t know how long we spent darting around the outskirts of Manchester, but eventually, we got picked up by scouts for Helen’s group, who were all about to set out.”

“Helen?” Louis asks when he pauses.

“I never knew her last name,” Harry says. “But she reminded me of what my mum would’ve been, if she lived that long.” He sniffles, somehow smiling again. “She was so amazin’, Lou. There were thirty of us at the beginning, and we picked up more as we moved. She organized patrols, found people who knew how to use weapons. She picked that spot in Sheffield, you know. It used to be a school.” 

Titan comes over and settles beside Louis, resting his head on Louis’ thigh. Louis pats his side. 

“It was about a year, I think,” Harry says. “Maybe a little more. We went through winter and then spring, and it was all good. I actually thought we’d make it ‘til the government stepped back in. We were all sure it’d just take time.”

There it is again, Harry’s optimism. His faith in humanity. Louis first lost his back in Manchester, and then buried it deep, after— 

“It wasn’t Helen who put you on trial,” Louis murmurs, leaning over to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“No.” Harry sighs. “She never came back from a supply run. It was a team of five who went out, and only one came back. Said they’d been ambushed by other survivors, but I didn’t believe him.” He sighs again. “That started all sorts of arguments, and the lady who was lookout got distracted. We didn’t even notice ‘til the gate was overrun with the biters.”

Harry uses _biters_ and _dead_ interchangeably; Louis only ever calls them _dead_. Harry’s held long philosophical conversations with himself about it. Louis doesn’t want to think that deeply about it.

“I’d been looking after the kids that day,” Harry continues. “I got them all up the stairs and then barred the door. Kept ‘em as calm as I could but there was screaming and gunfire and—” He shudders. “Simon was the one who finally came for us, when the biters were gone.” 

“Simon?” Louis asks.

Harry nods. “He took over. Helen had a couple of people who helped her, you know, and they all died. So Simon and this guy named Walsh, and Dan—well, they said they were brothers, and they knew how to keep us safe. It’d been like a village, with Helen in charge. But those three, they…” He shrugs. “It all changed.”

Marigold jumps up, kicking off from Harry’s thigh, and starts yapping. Harry and Louis both flinch, but then Titan’s up, too, snarling. The other three rush over, Susie howling but Danny and Kenickie keeping quiet even though their ruff is raised. 

“Hello?” someone shouts. “Is anybody there? We need help!”

Louis lunges to cover Harry’s mouth even as he opens it to shout back. “Harold,” he whispers. “Take the yappers in the house.” He waits a moment and Harry slumps down with a nod. Louis lets go and Harry rolls to his feet, grabbing Marigold and Susie. Louis clucks to catch Titan’s attention and motions for silence.

Louis doesn’t watch Harry go, just grabs for his gun.

...

Their second night, Harry demanded to watch the sunset. He’d been slowly warming up to Louis all day, making terrible jokes that reminded Louis of Phoebe’s joke phase. He chatted about birds and flowers and the music he missed, but whenever Louis shushed him, he’d fall silent until Louis said, “Okay.”

He made entirely too much noise when he walked but tried earnestly when Louis explained how to walk quieter. 

To his own confusion, Louis realized that he wanted to chat back, to reply with his own inane thoughts, to discuss things as he hadn’t since his debates with Zayn.

“Why do you want to watch the sunset?” Louis asked, completely bewildered. They hadn’t put nearly enough space between them and Harry’s cult, and they still needed to find somewhere to bed down for the night.

“To remind us,” Harry said, and there was something so heartbreaking in his tone that Louis gave in.

So they watched the sunset from the barn Louis decided they would spend the night in, and before he fell asleep, Harry whispered, “Thank you.”

…

“Titan, with me,” Louis hisses. “Boys, patrol and guard.” Titan sticks close to him while Danny and Kenickie take off in opposite directions. He glances back to see that Harry’s shut Marigold and Susie in the house and is now lingering near the door, Louis’ machete in his hands, a crowbar at his feet.

Louis hurries to the rock and pushes it against the wall. Titan is snarling again, but it’s low, and he sees it more than hears it. 

“Please!” a man shouts. Someone’s crying. 

His favorite gun, the one Liam gave him, holds seven rounds, and he always keeps it fully loaded. He peers over the wall to see three people running alongside it, two dead shuffling behind them. There are more dead in the distance, a couple overgrown fields away.

The dead won’t recognize the barrier the cars make, at the break in the wall where the drive used to be; the humans might. He glances back at Harry, who’s drifted closer, machete angled down and the crowbar now resting on his shoulder.

What makes his decision for him is when a baby cries.

…

“What _can_ you do?” Louis asked, after Harry tried a strike with the hunting knife and dropped it.

Harry huffed angrily, picking the knife back up. “I was with the medical staff,” he said. “Kept away from the fighting because there were only four of us.” He tried the strike again and almost cut himself.

“Try it slower,” Louis suggested, modeling the move again with his backup blade. 

They kept practicing until Danny came back from his scouting trip, tail wagging. They rested, ate a snack, and then continued westerly. Louis didn’t track days anymore, but Harry had a little notebook, where he ticked them off, and, he regally informed Louis the next time they stopped to rest, it was the 32nd day since Louis’d rescued him. 

It hadn’t felt like a month at all. While Harry played with Danny’s ears and Kenickie kept watch, Louis thought back to that first group he’d been with, who’d left him tied up as bait while they fled, how he’d barely escaped to be saved by Liam, running from dead he’d known in life. Liam’s group had been next, and he guessed it’d been about a year, before they were separated in Doncaster, days after he’d found that there wasn’t a trace of his family at all. He tried looking for them, after he lost Liam and Zayn, and then found another group at the edge of Doncaster, a little family that hadn’t let him close, and then a group of men who’d been so frightening he’d hung back, out of sight, shadowing them until they fell asleep. He’d tried to steal some food.

It hadn’t gone well. He managed to escape after a few days, and he stayed far away from people after that.

Then he’d found the dogs, and then fall turned into winter. He spent the mornings scavenging the village for anything useful and stockpiling it, the afternoons training the puppies, and the evenings arranging everything for the nights, when he huddled with the dogs for warmth and tried not to cry himself to sleep. He talked to Danny and Kenickie about everything, focusing all his attention on them because he needed someone to take care of. He always had. But he couldn’t trust people anymore. Wouldn’t. He’d wait ‘til spring to try tracking his family because he wouldn’t risk his dogs in the ice and snow.

When the thaw came, he returned to Mum’s house but he didn’t have any idea what to look for. And then it turned out he’d been going in circles anyway, if Harry was right about the compound being in Sheffield. 

Louis had been avoiding every living person he’d come across since leaving Doncaster, and deciding to rescue Harry—but he’d been trapped before, and leaving someone to the mercy of a mob, he just couldn’t do it.

And a month had passed with Louis barely noticing. Harry being near didn’t cause his skin to crawl, and he’d had the usual bad dreams instead of new ones. Trying to teach Harry to defend himself was amusing and necessary and didn’t make him worry at all, Harry holding his weapons. He was nice to the dogs and the dogs loved him.

“I can stay, can’t I?” Harry asked, closing the notebook. There was dirt on his face, his curls disheveled.

Louis didn’t trust people, had promised himself to never be at another’s mercy again. Maybe Liam, if he’d ever found that almost-family again, if they hadn’t been hardened by this new, horrible world. He hadn’t been sure what he’d do with Harry, once he was freed, but it had been—easy. Easy to talk with him, to laugh, to fall asleep.

“Yeah, sure,” he said nonchalantly. 

Harry grinned, so brightly it hurt to look at. It was an expression people simply didn’t make anymore.

“Thank you,” he said. It was what he’d said the most, since that first night. Louis wondered, as he rose to his feet, if maybe he should be the one thanking Harry.

…

A man, a woman, and a teenaged girl holding a baby. Louis looks from the small group, going too slowly because the man has a mangled foot. A herd in the distance, hopefully too far away to see, but if he uses the gun—

“Fucking shitting hell,” he mutters, shoving his gun back in the holster. At that, Harry, runs over. “Machete,” Louis orders as Harry scrambles onto the rock. “Stay on the wall,” he adds, pulling himself onto it and getting ready to jump. 

The dead still haven’t noticed him, intent entirely on the little family, and he quickly drops down, dangling from the wall for just a moment to be sure of his landing. Harry holds the machete over, and he’s able to take out the first dead with ease, stabbing the back of its head. Which is when the man trips and the second dead falls on him, already biting. 

The woman screams and tries to pull the dead off him but the girl huddles closer to the wall, arms wrapped around the wailing infant. The woman’s shouting at the dead, and of course, before Louis can get there, it bites her, too. He waits until its fully distracted to dart in and stab it, glancing over his shoulder to see where the rest of the herd is. 

The woman is crying. The man is dead. Louis looks at the girl. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But we have to go now.” He does a quick visual inspection as he asks, “Have you been scratched or bit?” She shakes her head. “What about the baby?” She shakes her head again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, before stabbing both the man and the woman in the head.

The girl doesn’t scream, just sags against the wall. Louis quickly hurries around them to grab her; she doesn’t struggle as he guides her back to Harry on the wall. They hand up the baby first, then the girl, and then Louis jumps for Harry to catch his arms and pull him up. The dead are still a field away.

The girl is sobbing now, but Harry’s managed to quiet the baby. The dogs are riled up but Louis kneels down to pat his boys and Titan, shushing them.

“Harry,” he says, “check the baby.” Then to the girl, “I need to make sure you’re not bitten.” She’s wearing jeans and a ripped blouse, and she cries harder, even as Louis repeats again helplessly, “I’m _so_ sorry,” because he is—but for all that she’s Lottie’s age, Harry is his priority. 

She has bruises but no open wounds. Louis goes back to peer over the wall while she redresses. 

The dead are still shambling toward them.

“In the house,” he tells them. 

Once the door is locked behind them, Harry hands the baby back. While the girl curls up weeping on the sofa, Marigold and Susie sniffing her, Harry and Louis barricade every door and window. “Upstairs,” Louis says, gesturing to her. He snaps at the dogs and then points.

He’s last up. “You can choose any room but the master,” he tells the girl. “I’m sorry, but until the herd passes, there can’t be any noise, so you can’t bathe yet. He hands her a bag of food; he’ll have to check the bodies for supplies, if there’s anything left once the dead are done. “But you can rest.” She just stands there shaking, one arm wrapped around the baby and the other around the food. “Miss?”

So she’s going into shock. Great. He turns to Harry. “Keep the dogs with you. Do what you can for her.” He knows Harry would’ve anyway but having anyone else in his territory is annoying, so micromanaging is all he can do. He grabs the rifle by the bed and the container of bullets before heading up to the attic and onto the roof.

…

They came across a few other survivors, mostly in small groups though there was one woman by herself. They shared camp for a night with her; she kept her hand on her knife the whole time, and so did Louis. Harry chatted with her about medical things because she was training to be a pediatrician when the world ended. It was an interesting enough conversation, and Louis saw so many openings he would have taken once, for jokes and innuendos, any chance to make Harry blush or laugh. 

Her name was Jade, and that’s all they ever learned. At sunrise, she left, heading south. She had friends in London, she told Harry when he hugged her goodbye. She had friends in London, and she was going to see if they were still alive.

They stayed at the camp a little longer, for lessons with the hunting knife. They made it through a few practice strikes, and then Harry said, “I really want to go home, sometimes.” His voice was trembling. “I dream about it.” He slid the knife into its sheathe, holding it out to Louis. “Does that make me weak?”

“No,” Louis answered, taking the sheathed knife and putting it into his pack. “I dream about that too.” He whistled to the dogs and then asked Harry, “Which way do you want to go?”

Harry rubbed at his eyes. “Same way we’ve been goin’,” he said. 

Louis chuckled softly. “Do you know which direction that is?”

Shaking his head, Harry pulled the duffle onto his shoulder. 

“West,” Louis said. He pulled his compass out of his pocket. He had more, scavenged from shops and homes, but this one was his, the only thing that managed to make it out of Manchester with him, a gift from his grandfather he’d never cared about before the dead rose. “We’re not makin’ good time,” he added, “not that it matters much. Nowhere to go.”

“Do you think we’ll just wander forever?” Harry asked, falling into step behind him. Kenickie ran ahead while Danny made up the rear.

“I’ve felt safer on the move,” Louis admitted. “But we’re a pair now, so it’s up to you, too.”

… 

From the roof, Louis watches the dead shuffle close. They ignore the wall but fall onto the bodies. It takes hours before the last of them pass by. He carefully picks his way along the roof, rifle ready, and keeps his gaze on the only weak spot: the barricade across the drive, the only break in the wall. But none of the dead even notice it. 

In the distance, there’s another scream. Louis stays on the roof until the sun is setting, waiting for any dead, but the herd is gone. He sighs in relief, relaxing slightly, and sets the rifle down so that he can stretch his back and arms. With one last glance around the perimeter, he slips back into the attic. 

Harry’s sitting in the hallway, machete in his hand. One of the bedroom doors is closed, Susie and Marigold curled up in front of it. Danny is at the head of the stairs, Kenickie stretched across the master bedroom doorway, and Titan is beside Harry. 

“I think we’re good,” Louis says and Harry sags against the wall in relief. “We’ll have to be quiet tonight and then check again in the morning, but they seem to have moved on.” 

“Thank fuck,” Harry mutters. 

Louis nods toward the closed door. “How is she?” 

Harry shrugs. “Still hasn’t said a word.” 

Louis knows he won’t be sleeping tonight, not with a stranger so close. “And the baby?” he asks. “Can we trust her with an infant?” 

Harry bites at his lip, glancing back at the door. “I didn’t want to cause her more harm,” he admits. “She was holding her fine.”

“Her?” Louis repeats. 

“I checked her over, remember?” Harry says. “The baby’s a healthy little girl, about six months old.” 

Louis carefully steps over Harry to knock softly on the door. “Go scrounge up something for us for dinner,” he tells Harry. “And something for the baby.” He knocks again. “Miss?” he calls. Harry sets the machete down and rises, clucking for the yappers, who eagerly rush over. 

There’s no reply from the girl. 

She was in shock, had just seen two people die, had been running from the dead—“Miss, I’m going to come in,” he says, leaning his rifle against the wall and putting his hand on his knife instead. He opens the door slowly, and still nothing. He lets it swing open, eyes darting around the room. 

The girl is tucked into the corner, baby still in her arms, but she’s actually _looking_ at him, glaring. She still doesn’t speak, but she shifts in place as he steps into the room. 

“I’m sorry about your friends,” he says, hand falling to his side. “But they’d both been bitten.” 

The baby babbles something; the girl shushes her. 

“I’m Louis,” he says. “The other one, he’s Harry. He’s gone to find some food for us.” 

Her eyes haven’t left him, even though the baby makes more noise. 

“You’re safe here,” he says. “Both of you.” 

She shivers, blinks, and says, “’m’Lux.” The baby starts to whimper. “I think she needs to be changed,” Lux says. She slowly gets to her feet, looking away from him focus on the baby. 

“What’s her name?” Louis asks, making sure to keep his distance. She slowly seems to be relaxing and he doesn’t want to set her off again. Now that he’s gotten a better look at her, without a hundred other things to focus on, she seems younger than Lottie would be, now. She can’t be older than 15. 

“Dunno,” Lux says, bringing the baby up to her shoulder and grimacing. “Definitely needs to be changed.” She tries smiling as she moves toward the door, looking at Louis and then away. “Dad found her a couple weeks ago. He hurt his leg saving her.” 

So they were her parents. Damn. 

Lux slips into the hall only to shy back from Harry, who’s waiting by the stairs. “Sorry!” he calls softly. “But I’ve got food for us, and something we can try for the sweetheart.” 

“She needs to be changed,” Lux says slowly. “Harry, was it?” He nods, so Lux says more firmly, “Harry, can you show me where the cloths are?”

Harry grins and Louis continues to wait in the doorway, taking the tray from Harry as he steps past, until they’re in the bathroom, which is massive on this floor. The water still works, a magical setup by the poor bastards who had this place first, and if it breaks, neither Harry nor Louis have the first clue how to fix it. 

“Just the baby!” he says, placing the tray on one of the tables in the hall. “Anything longer has to wait for morning.” 

“Yes, Lou!” Harry replies. Louis busies himself with portioning the adult food so he barely hears Harry ask, “Are you alright?” 

It’s been a long time since he helped care for an infant, so he will gladly let Harry take the lead since he’d been training for it. 

When Lux and Harry come back, Harry’s smiling so wide it must hurt, with the baby in his arms. Lux is crying silently behind him, arms wrapped around herself, and Louis can’t help but go to her, murmuring, “I’m so sorry, love,” and he catches her when she lunges for him, holding her tightly as she continues to cry, muffling her sobs in his chest. 

Harry picks up the bowl that must be for the baby and murmurs, “I’ll be in the office, feeding her.” 

Louis nods slightly, keeping up his patter of nonsense words guiding Lux back into her chosen room so that they can rest on the bed. 

All he can make out is, “They’re gone they’re gone they’re gone,” and he has to bite back his own tears. 

…

He kissed Harry when there was still blood on him, when his heart still pounded from a near-escape, when there were still dead milling around outside, when he was still reeling from the thought of Harry being gone forever. 

He kissed Harry, hands clutching at Harry’s arm, Harry’s hip, body shaking in relief and remembered terror, eyes open because he never wanted to look away. 

He kissed Harry, and Harry hesitated for a moment, but then his hands settled onto Louis’ sides and he kissed back, and he didn’t close his eyes. 

…

Harry keeps holding the baby throughout dinner. Lux stays mostly silent, eating only what’s put in front her after Louis gently prods her to. After Louis’ eaten his share, he goes downstairs to feed the dogs and let them out long enough to do their business before bringing them all back in and checking that everything is still sealed up. 

After dinner, Lux goes back into her bedroom. Before she closes the door, Louis offers her some of the extra clothing they’d found in the house. “Would you mind,” he asks, “if Marigold and Susie stay with you?” Susie’s already snuck in but Marigold is gazing up at her from just inside the doorway. 

Lux almost smiles. “Fine,” she mutters, taking the clothes and closing the door only after Marigold’s gotten out of the way. 

Harry’s sitting on their bed, back to the headboard, humming to the baby. It’s the most beautiful sight Louis’ seen in a long time. For just a moment, he can imagine that they’re somewhere else, that she’s theirs, that they’re successful and safe, that they’ve taken hundreds of photos for all their family and friends to see, that everyone they love is just a ring away, and that in the morning, they’ll be able to go out and show her the world. 

Titan huffs behind him. Danny nudges his knee. Kenickie grumbles from his spot in the corner. 

“Can we keep her, Lou?” Harry asks as Louis sets his rifle against the wall. 

“Of course,” he answers, though that’ll depend entirely on Lux. If she decides to leave—well, surely she’ll realize that taking the baby would be a death sentence for them both. He reaches over to tickle her belly, presses a kiss to Harry’s temple. 

“I want to name her Gemma,” Harry whispers. 

Louis kisses him again. “We’ll talk about names with Lux in the morning,” he promises.


	3. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings as ever for violence, death, grief, and PTSD  
> Prompt: The Walking Dead, any, How do they know it's a new year?
> 
> I have ideas for two more parts; we'll see if I write them.

First New Year 

Louis wakes up because he’s cold. Micah and Susan have burrowed against his back; he can hear Liam talking quietly with his parents. Instead of rising, Louis carefully flips over and curls around the kids, trying to keep them warm. 

The temperature dropped overnight, which means winter’s starting. Fatima is the one who keeps track of the days, announcing the date every morning, and it’s midway through November. 

Micah whimpers. He’s just a little lad, barely five years old, and according to Ruth, he saw his entire family die and then was almost killed by them. Louis shudders, thinking about it, and determinably turns his mind away from wondering about his own family. “Shush, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling Micah in tighter. 

Susan isn’t much older than Micah. Zayn found her running through the countryside during one of his foraging trips not long after Liam rescued Louis. Like Micah, she doesn’t talk. There are other children, keeping Nicola and Ruth busy, but Micah and Susan have latched onto Louis, so he does his best to keep them occupied. 

Louis gently shakes them awake when Liam comes by with a murmured, “Time to get up.” 

.

It only gets colder. Zayn, Louis, and Yolanda scavenge through every town within three days of Liam’s chosen place, bringing back all the winter gear they can. Barbara has a breakdown a week after they’ve bedded down and runs out in the middle of the night, leaving her infant daughter Melody behind. 

“Should I go after her?” Liam asks Zayn in a whisper while his mum grabs Melody from her makeshift bassinet. The baby is fussing, and she only starts to get louder, however Karen tries to comfort her. 

Daisy used to scream for hours before Louis got home from school. Whenever he did, he’d go to her, pick her up, and dance around singing anything that came to mind. Mum, Dad, and even Lottie tried it, but it only ever worked for Louis. 

“Let me have her,” Louis says, going over. Micah follows, his little hand clutching Louis’ belt loop, and Susan drifts after them. 

Louis settles into an out-of-the-way corner, his tag-alongs getting in as close as they can, and he starts to hum, first. It feels like it’s been forever since he sang, so he keeps it soft, first the lullabies his mum used to sing, when it was just him and her against the world. Melody’s sobs slowly drift off, so he continues on to every song from _Grease_ and then the Disney stalwarts. 

Melody falls asleep after about an hour of constant singing and Louis’ voice is nearly gone. Geoff offers him one of the bottled waters, which he takes gratefully. His arms are exhausted from holding her without moving for so long, but Micah is asleep against his thigh and Susan’s nodding off, so Louis figures he’s in for a rough night. 

Barbara never comes back; Karen and Nicola take over Melody’s care, but whenever it’s time to calm her, she’s always handed off to Louis. 

.

“It’s December 31,” Fatima says quietly one morning, after Yolanda and David came back with a deer that Cole began cleaning. He’s been in other parts of the house for all the recent announcements, taking care of the kids. 

Louis’ been 23 for 7 days and didn’t know. He bites back the sudden overwhelming urge to weep by focusing on Micah, who’s tugging at his trousers. 

.

In the morning, it’s a new year. Louis’ awake before dawn and watches the sun rise, a little boy tucked into his side and a little girl curled up at his back, and he closes his eyes tightly so that he doesn’t start to cry.

 

Second New Year

As the weather starts to turn cold, Louis decides to find somewhere to hole-up in for the winter. There are a fair few dead wandering around Doncaster. After days of dodging them and trying to keep up with two rambunctious, always-hungry puppies, Louis flees to one of the surrounding villages, where the population of the dead should be more manageable. He chooses the least-damaged house with two storeys and spends a day turning one of the rooms into a dog kennel. 

After that, he spends his mornings scavenging through the village for food, winter gear, and weapons. His afternoons, he focuses on training up the puppies. They’re a pair of brother Labrador Retrievers; he calls the red one Danny and the black one Kenickie. They’re clever and catch on fast, and they eat way more than he does. But then, he’s not often hungry anymore. He eats only because he has to, because he has the dogs to look after now. 

He doesn’t know what day it was when he got separated from Liam and the others; he prays to a god he’s never believed in that the kids are okay, that everyone survived. He does his best to keep track, the way Fatima had, but it’s all guesswork. 

So he chooses a day to be his birthday, and eight days after, he watches the sunrise, Danny in his lap and Kenickie snuffling beside him, and he whispers, “Happy New Year.”

 

Third New Year 

Harry keeps track of the days as they wander, looking for somewhere to make their own. He declares that they met in early May, most likely the fifth, and it’s not like Louis knows any different. 

It’s on the outskirts of a town that Harry finds their house, already fortified. They have to fight for it, of course, against one panicked man who nearly kills Harry as he flees the dead, and then the dead themselves. Once it’s safe, Louis and Harry finish fortifying the drive, which had apparently been the previous occupants’ weakness. 

Their second day in the house, Harry puts up a makeshift calendar. “It’s the 17th of October,” he informs Louis. Every morning, he marks another day. 

.

On December 24, Harry presents Louis with a new knife that he found, he explains, in one of the outlying farms. He squirreled it away immediately, but he assures Louis that if it had become necessary, he would’ve revealed it sooner. 

.

On December 31, somewhere near midnight (Louis assumes), he and Harry climb onto the roof. By moonlight, he can barely make out Danny but Kenickie remains in shadow. The yappers, two strays Harry found and couldn’t bear to leave behind, are in the house somewhere, probably asleep in Harry and Louis’ bed. Titan, the wolfhound Louis found in the washroom on their third day at the house, is somewhere in the yard, too.

“It’s been almost three years since all this started,” Harry murmurs. 

Louis leans in to put his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Happy New Year, love,” he says.


	4. what other chapters would've been

Part 4: What an amazing day looks like

Harry keeps track of days and months; wants to celebrate Emmy's birthday

Figure out timeline; six months after lux and Emmy are rescued

Flashback: Harry finding the house, cleaning it out, meeting Susie, marigold, and Titan

 

part 5: What a terrible day looks like

Having to fight invaders at the house, Louis getting wounded

Flashback: Harry losing hope at some point before finding the house, Louis having to convince him to continue on


End file.
